


A Forest So Enchanted

by orphan_account



Category: Gymnastics RPF, Olympics RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Magic, M/M, Urban Legends, creature!Jonathan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 03:08:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1712723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 1853, the California Gold Rush has consumed the Americas. Not that that affects Ryan Lochte's life. The son of a blacksmith in Daytona Parish, Florida, Ryan feels his life is going nowhere and considers running away to California to try his hand at mining. However, before he can make up his mind a local superstition and an evening stroll will change Ryan's fate in a way no gold rush ever could.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

Growing up as the eldest son of a blacksmith in Daytona Parish doesn't exactly prepare you for anything other than one day being a blacksmith yourself.

That is one reason why Ryan Lochte hates Daytona Parish.

He has other reasons; like the fact that in Daytona Parish people are not remembered for their good deeds but for their mistakes. He hates how nothing stays a secret for long. He hates it when his father calls him into the smithy at dawn and leaves him pounding out horseshoes until dusk. But what Ryan truly hates the most is that every night when he sits down for supper his mother tries to convince him to start courting one of her friend's daughters. Tonight she says, “I ran into the Schmitt's youngest daughter, Allison, down at the general store. She's grown into quite a beauty.” but Ryan knows that she really means to say is, “Pick a girl and settle down into a loveless marriage before someone figures out you're a queer, and strings you up in the cornfield for the birds to peck at.”

He listens to her prattling as long as he can stand, shifting the food on his plate with the gentle prod of his fork until his mashed potatoes are shaped into an arrow and his peas are in a single file line. That's when Ryan politely asks to be excused and leaves, placing his plate and fork next to the wash basin on his way out the back door.

“Be back before moonrise,” his father reminds him. “You know what night it is.”

Ryan nods and goes on his way. He knows exactly why his father would give him such a warning. Every child that has grown up in Daytona Parish knows that it isn’t safe to venture outside on the night of the Harvest Moon. It was said that on this night the moon played tricks on youngsters out past dark, drawing them deep into the woods surrounding the parish to be devoured by the dark creatures that stayed hidden amongst the trees. Ryan sighs, feeling very much alone. He wonders if he would be better off packing his few belongings and sneaking out in the dead of night, then hopping the nearest west bound train and riding the rails all the way to California. He could get himself a gold claim and mine for his fortune the way so many others have done before him. It sounds a bit drastic if Ryan is honest with himself, but it seems an awful lot better than having to live up to his parent’s expectations. Ryan’s thoughts go on like this for quite some time and it’s only the distant hooting of an owl that breaks him out of his musings.

He looks up to see where he’s managed to wander and finds that he has ambled along the fence that separates his family’s land from the woods, a good half-mile from his home. The fence itself is in desperate need of a whitewashing, but other than that it still stands a solid seven feet straight up. Ryan feels a sense of dread rush through him. He peers up at the sky to see the Harvest Moon hung low on the horizon; orange as a ripe pumpkin and so full it looks almost pregnant in it's roundness. Ryan sighs, cursing his bad luck.

“Why so far from home?” A melodic voice from just beyond the other side of the fence asks, startling Ryan so much he jumps back a few steps, loses his balance, and lands flat on his ass in the dirt.

“I'm not far from home.” Ryan says dumbly. He then watches as a figure silhouetted by the brightness of the moon sticks it's head over the top of the fence. The rest of the figure's body comes into view when it clamors over the top of the fence and jumps down, landing close enough to Ryan that he can reach out and touch it. He almost does, but then the creature shifts further towards him Ryan yanks his hand back as if it’s been burnt. The creature is obviously male and wearing nothing but an ill-fitting pair of trousers that cling to It’s hips.

“Don’t be scared,” the creature tells Ryan. “The fear will fade; I assure you.”

“Who are you?” Ryan asks, his heart beating so fast he fears it will thump it’s way right out of his chest.

“They call me all kinds of things.” the creature says, standing up from it’s crouching position, brushing the dust off of his trousers. ”But most of those names aren’t befitting for such civilized conversation.”

The creature looks human enough to pass if someone were to see it out of the corner of their eye, but looking dead on like Ryan is.... well, It doesn’t look like any human Ryan’s ever seen. The creature’s eyes slant almost diagonally and when It smiles Ryan can see row after row of needle-like fangs instead of flat, square human teeth. Every word out of the creature’s mouth is slightly sibilant, as if a snake was trying to sing a lullaby.

The creature then says, “I prefer the name Jonathan. It’s Hebrew, you know. It means ‘gift of God’.”

“Are you a gift of God?” Ryan asks, his mind still reeling a bit. “Or are you the beast that everyone fears? The evil thing that snatches children away under the light of the Harvest Moon and carries them away forever?”

“I’m no more of a beast than you are.” The creature (or Jonathan as he’s told Ryan) says, letting out a small sigh and flexing his shoulders. “This is the time of year when those of my kind seek companionship. We get lonesome just like you do.” the creature explains. “And yes, it is true that I have found companions in some of the adolescents of your village but I never take anyone against their own will. I ask that they come and live in the forest with me for the time between one Harvest Moon and the next and if they say yes, and only when they say yes, do I take them. Then when our time together is over I bid them farewell and send them on their way.”

“But none of the missing have ever returned to the Parish,” Ryan says. “It doesn’t make any sense. If you let them go why wouldn’t they have come back home?”

Jonathan gives Ryan a closed lipped smile, murmurs, “I said I let them go. What they do after I send them on their way is their business. And honestly; if you had to choose between a vast world of adventure beyond the forest or a monotonous life in Daytona Parish what would you choose?”

Ryan speaks honestly. “This is the only life I’ve ever known.”

“And you hate it,” Jonathan says, slanted eyes flashing white like a lightning strike in a glass bottle as he continues. “I have watched you for a long time, Ryan Lochte, and I know there is nothing you hate more than the life you live now. You hate the fact that your life is not your own and you fear that no one will ever see you as more than the blacksmith’s son. I can change that. I can give you the same opportunity I’ve given others before you. Come into the forest. Stay with me until the next Harvest Moon and in that time I will show you things that will change your fate forever. All you have to do is follow me.” With that Jonathan scales the fence at an unusually fast pace and pauses at the top, one leg on either side of the fence, asks, “Are you coming?”

Ryan looks up at the moon, then back toward where his parent’s home is, and makes his decision. He smiles up at Jonathan, says, “Yes. Yes, I am.” and begins climbing the fence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In 1853, the California Gold Rush has consumed the Americas. Not that that affects Ryan Lochte's life. The son of a blacksmith in Daytona Parish, Florida, Ryan feels his life is going nowhere and considers running away to California to try his hand at mining. However, before he can make up his mind a local superstition and an evening stroll will change Ryan's fate in a way no gold rush ever could.

* * *

Climbing over the fence is like entering another world entirely. It’s more than Ryan could’ve ever dreamed; it’s simultaneously terrifying and welcoming. Jonathan waits until Ryan has found his footing before taking the human’s hand and walking through the trees. There is no marked path; instead the very forest moves to accommodate their steps. Protruding tree roots shrink back and shrubs scuttle out of the way. Even the moss moves, taking the rocks it clings to with it. Tree branches sway above them to allow the Harvest Moon shine down through the canopy and light their way.

“Wow,” Ryan says. “How do you do that?”

“I don’t do it, they do.” Jonathan answers, indicating to the trees and foliage.

“But how?” Ryan asks again.

“It’s about respect,” Jonathan intones wisely. “This forest isn’t just a bunch of leafery to be cut down and turned into tinder. Everything here has a soul and a heart. Every plant, every tree, every animal. I respect them and I am kind to them. They behave the same in return. My kind have lived among the trees for nearly a millennia; we’ve become vital to the survival of the forests. We are their protectors. Humans are quite disinclined to chop down a forest if it is home to a legend.”

“So you scare people into leaving the forest alone and it lets you live here in exchange.” Ryan surmises as they continue to walk. In the moonlight he can see animals both large and small shifting through the underbrush, their eyes glowing white and yellow.

“You could say that,” Jonathan nods. “It also gives me power.”

“What kind of power?” Ryan inquires.

Jonathan chuckles, says “You are just filled to the brim with questions, aren’t you?”

Ran blushes, “I guess.” he says. “I’ve always been a very curious person.”

“Well, to answer your question the power given to me by the beings of the forest is the most natural power of all.” Jonathan says. “The power over life and death.”

“You mean witchcraft,” Ryan concludes. “Like the gypsies that travel with the circus and tell fortunes.”

Jonathan replies immediately, as if he’s offended. He says, “Witchcraft is for silly little human girls who pretend to brew love potions and gaze into crystal balls while they make up lies to bilk soft-headed folks out of their hard earned money. Gypsies! Ha!” Jonathan pauses and spits at the ground. “Rattling around a coin purse full of chicken bones and having a black cat as a pet; it’s all a ruse. My power is as ancient as the forest itself. Witchcraft is nothing but parlour tricks compared to what I can do.”

“Being prideful is a sin, you know,” Ryan mumbles. He can’t help feeling like he’s eight years old again, being scolded by his mother for not finishing his vegetables.

“Sin is a human malady,” Jonathan says haughtily. “My kind are above such things.”

“What exactly are you, anyway? How are you different from me?” Ryan says.

“You need not worry about such things for the time being,” Jonathan replies pointing into the distance as he adds. “We’ve almost arrived.”

Ryan looks ahead and sees something that looks like a cross between an enormous tree and a small cottage. As he gets closer he sees that it is actually a small cottage to which the giant tree above has grown around in such a way that the two have become one. Then, just like with the other trees, the giant oak shrinks away as Jonathan approaches; revealing the entire cottage. “This is your house?” Ryan asks.

“Yes,” Jonathan says. “And now it’s yours as well.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In 1853, the California Gold Rush has consumed the Americas. Not that that affects Ryan Lochte's life. The son of a blacksmith in Daytona Parish, Florida, Ryan feels his life is going nowhere and considers running away to California to try his hand at mining. However, before he can make up his mind a local superstition and an evening stroll will change Ryan's fate in a way no gold rush ever could.

* * *

It’s been a few days since Ryan climbed over the fence and followed Jonathan into the woods and, if he’s absolutely honest, it’s been the most incredible thing he’s ever done. It turns out that the little blue cottage hidden among the trees, while small on the outside, expands into a huge home beneath the soil.

“Do you like it?” Jonathan asks.

“Yes. It’s amazing,” Ryan says in awe.

“Go ahead and explore,” Jonathan encourages him after ushering Ryan inside. “You’ll be surprised by what you’ll find.”

It turns out that the word ‘surprised’ is a monumental understatement. Ryan finds that it’s all one big cavernous space filled in certain corners with a bed of animal pelts in the very center of everything. Above the bed there are bouquets of flowers hung upside down from strings in the ceiling so they will dry out and give up the ghost of their precious scent. Ryan’s mother often did the same thing and he almost feels sorry for running away. Almost. In the far left corner stands a colossal iron-set wood burning stove and the basic fixings of a kitchen: a wash basin, pots, pans, and dishes stacked on shelves, and a sturdy wood table in the middle for preparing meals. In a nook by the kitchen sits a table for two, already set and ready for a meal to be served. The opposite corner houses a claw foot tub along with a three tiered standing shelf crowded with various vials and apothecary bottles, each one a different shape and housing a different liquid, some of them thin like mercury while others were thick as a bad batch of potato soup, all of them labeled carefully in a neat script that Ryan assumes is Jonathan’s. There is also something that looks to be the makings of an outhouse.

“That’s a latrine.” Jonathan says when he catches Ryan staring at the contraption with a bewildered look on his face.

“I know what it is,” Ryan snaps, thinking he’s being made fun of. “I just don’t understand why it’s inside.”

“Don’t feel embarrassed, Ryan,” Jonathan says soothingly. “My people have discovered a great deal more about this world than humans; we are an, shall I say, industrious breed. We all take certain strides to see that our companions live comfortably. This is one of those strides. ”After that Jonathan explained how the indoor latrine worked and even demonstrated how at the pull of a lever new water entered the basin and the waste was swept away. He even showed Ryan the pumping system that allowed them to have running water from a nearby creek.

“That’s genius.” Ryan says, clearly impressed. Another little niche in the far left side of the space houses a large chair fashioned of animal pelts and what looks to be a couple of large woven baskets linked together. The chair itself is surrounded by various stacks of books. Ryan picks one up, reads the title: _The Encyclopedia of Woodland Sorcery by Lille St. James_. He puts that one down, picks up another; it’s title is _Spells of Rightful Indignation: A Guide To Correcting The Wrongs of Others by Fera Noel._ He goes through the entire stack, about fifteen books, and discovers that they all share a similar theme with the first two.

“I thought you didn’t practice witchcraft,” Ryan says, motioning to the books.

“I don’t,” Jonathan says matter-of-factually. “Those are for you. So you can learn. You may never be able to experience the power I’ve been given but with the right amount of study, you may be able to know just enough to succeed in the world beyond the forest when the time comes for you to depart from me.”

“Anxious to see me leave already?” Ryan snarks playfully.

“Not quite yet,” Jonathan replies. He smiles with all three sets of his teeth and his slanted eyes flash white as they did the very first time Ryan saw him. “There is mischief to be had.”

“Mischief?” Ryan asks.

“Yes, Ryan,” Jonathan answers. “Mischief the likes of which you have never known.”


End file.
